An Upturned Fedora
by Such Curiosity
Summary: "He's my partner dammit." He growled strongly, fists clenched. "And if you don't get him a doctor and he dies, God so help me I'll make you wish it was you who had died instead." Peter spat coldly. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This plot bunny just hopped right into my mind! Enjoy and happy reading! :)**

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Peter's eyes sparkled toward the clock ahead of him, seeing that it was finally time to return home. His thoughts smiled at him with thoughts of his wife, warm food, and a comfortable couch. Peter grabbed his jacket and headed out, shutting the light and door to his office. With a few quick goodbyes, Peter sauntered down the steps in time to see Neal straightening his jacket and pocketing his phone, eyes dancing toward Peter.

"Ready?" Neal asked, plopping the hat onto his head.

"Way ahead of you. I was ready yesterday." Peter answered, raising his brows slightly at his partner, tossing in a small smile. Neal flashed one back at him.

"Did you solve that last file?" Neal asked Peter. Peter nodded.

"Almost, although I could use your thoughts on something…we'll go over it tomorrow." Peter said as the two began to head toward the door.

"You mean my gifted expertise?" Neal corrected, his expression playful. Peter narrowed his eyes jokingly back.

"Well…I wouldn't call experience you learned from avoiding the law gifted expertise…" he began. They debated the subject a bit more as they walked to the car, which ended as Peter knocked the rim of Neal's hat, tipping it across Neal's face. Neal straightened it with a "hey!" and a small chuckle from Peter. They continued with conversation as they drove to Neal's home.

With a goodbye, Neal exited the car with a few passing comments with Peter throwing some back. Neal climbed the stairs to the front door as Peter drove away. The ex-conman unlocked the door, shaking his head at Peter with a smirk. He entered and closed the door, turning his head toward the stairs to his apartment. However, although all seemed normal when he hadn't been looking a moment ago, it wasn't. It wasn't at all.

Tall men and guns pointed at him, surrounding him fully. Neal's expression turned from relaxed to alert, questioning. His hands very slowly raised to his shoulders.

"That's right. Hands up where we can see them, good man." One of the men spat lowly to him. Neal's jaw set and he swallowed, eyes scanning the situation surrounding him.

"Well…what's this all about?" Neal asked calmly, relaxing his face. The gunman tilted his head slightly.

"It's about us having your precious little land lady, Caffrey…" The gunman responded, the same one that spoke before. "And, well, if you want to go into details…it's about her life." He lowered his gun, allowing the other men to keep theirs on Neal. Neal's eyes flickered around then settled onto the man, feeling his heart dropping. June. "Randy, check our friend over please?" He asked as another gunman lowered his gun and headed toward Neal, ridding him of his cell phone and keys. He checked for a gun, but Neal didn't carry one.

"What do you want?" Neal asked sharply, looking at the man ahead of him as Randy searched his clothing. The man shifted.

"Ahh…well just a little bit-a dough…which we know our good lady friend has in a safe somewhere…and, well she just wouldn't tell us where it was…nor the passcode" He began. Neal was about to ask something as he opened his mouth. "Oh, but she's alright, she's just fine…but we also know you are pretty damn good at cracking codes." The man finished. Neal glared at them, eyes looking toward his phone for a moment as Randy stepped to the side. "See, we don't want any trouble Caffrey…we just want the money. However, see, it doesn't matter how much trouble we don't _want_…the money is paramount…and if we need to cause trouble, we will." He said. Neal felt chills up his spine, surveying the situation. There were two men to the side of him. "Do you understand?" He asked sternly. Neal nodded.

"Gooood. See, if we get the money you and your lady are free to go no problem, so let's just not start anything." Neal felt the two men grab his arms as the group turned to walk out of the entranceway. It was then were Neal moved what he had been plotting in his mind into action. He swiftly swung his arm from the man's grip and then swept his legs under the man while throwing the other man to the other side of the room, reaching for the door. However, that was when the shot went off.

Neal felt the searing pain in his back as the bullet plunged into his back. He arched forward, rolling onto himself as he fell, twisting into himself hard against the door. He was stunned, the breath knocked out of him.

"What the _FUCK?!" _Neal could barely hear the words over the extent of the pain which flooded in over the stunning numbness as he tried to grab hold of his breath, eyes wide to the ceiling.

"DID I TELL YOU TO FUCKING SHOOT HIM? HUH? DID I?" The man shouted at the other who had pointed his gun at Neal…who had shot him.

"No sir…but he-"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT, IF I DIDN'T TELL YOU TO SHOOT HIM, YOU DON'T DO IT ANYWAY! HOW THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO GET THIS DONE NOW? I SWEAR IF HE DIES, IF WE DON'T GET THAT MONEY-I'M GONNA-OH YOU'LL NEVER WANT TO LOOK YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AGAIN AFTER I'M DONE." He shouted angrily. Neal felt his breath hitch back into existence as he gasped against the pull of his lungs. He couldn't really get a grip on what was going on around him and finally the pain won. Blue eyes shut as he fell into a heavy-breathed slumber. The man, the leader, walked quickly to Neal, growling.

"Look at him. What is wrong with you?!" He hissed, leaning over Neal. He rolled Neal over a bit to look at the wound. Neal's breath hitched as the pain demanded his attention even in sleep, a pained grunt escaped him. "Get him upstairs, now." He commanded. The men complied, grabbing Neal off the ground. They walked him upstairs and dumped him onto the couch. Inside, June's head raised, hearing the gunshot had made her frightened. Frightened for whoever was the product of it. When she saw it was Neal they hauled in, June's eyes widened and tears welled. She sat in the chair, tied and gagged, perpendicular to the couch Neal was placed on. Her body tensed. No.

"You imbeciles!" He growled again, looking at the young man. "Now what the hell are we going to do?! This man needs a doctor and that's not a resource we have readily at this moment!" He then looked down at Neal, watching him. He sighed.

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Meanwhile, Peter Burke had turned his car around after finding Neal's wallet on the floor of the passenger side. He had tried to call Neal to find out if he needed the wallet, but he hadn't answered. Peter thought maybe he was taking a shower and decided it was better safe than sorry. If Neal was going to do anything he had to have his wallet. Peter climbed the stairs to the door and knocked before beginning to wait. His eyes glanced around for a moment and he tried again, unknowing to the commotion of people talking upstairs as to what they were going to do as Neal lost blood. Peter opened the door, finding it unlocked. A little strange. However, what was actually very strange was the blood pooled on the floor by the door. The crimson liquid had spread along the floor and streaked around the center. It was fresh. Not dry. Peter reached for his gun, then for his phone. However, he had left his phone in his car. After his failed call to Neal, Peter placed the gun in the center console.

The sight of the blood had alarmed him. The hat. The hat was upside down in the blood. _Neal. _He held the gun at attention, hearing the voices. His heart started to beat loudly against his chest. His eyes were prompt with concern as he scanned around and started upstairs. He listened to the conversation taking place on the other side of the door, holding the gun against him a bit as he peaked in from the crack between the door and the wall. He saw many men standing around, yapping. That was when he saw Neal laying on the couch, eyes shut and chest heaving. Peter couldn't tell what had happened to his partner, but his muscles tightened and his eyes were burning. _No. _He also saw June staring at Neal, watching the young man. Peter was about to turn to go back out the car and call for backup when suddenly he saw a gun pointed at him as well.

"Put. The gun. Down." The man demanded. Peter frowned, feeling his heart plummet. _Shit. _He did just as the man said before he was pushed into the room of about ten men. "Found him snooping, boss." The leader turned to Peter.

"Good. Shut that door." He said, frustration in his tone. "Search him…" He turned, looking at Peter. "Ahhh…agent Burke, what a surprise." He smirked.

"Who are you? How do you know who I am?" He asked firmly, his mouth in a concerned line has his eyes flickered between the man in front of him and Neal.

"Whoa, whoa Agent Burke take it easy now." He said, a gunman moving to search Peter's pocket. "You can call me Clark…I just want some money, that's all…I know my customers before I rob them, I'll have you know, and their associates…and well you friend there..." He looked behind to the couch. "He was gonna help me crack the safe code…to keep his little land lady there safe and sound. Peter glared.

"What did you do to him?" He questioned.

"One of my eccentric, stupid men decided to shoot him." He snarled darkly. Peter was finished being searched and ridded of his keys and pocket knife. Peter went to move toward his partner, concern leaking into his eyes as he looked toward Neal and June. "Hey, Burke, where do you think you're going?" He questioned, reaching to stop Peter.

"Dammit Clark, you have my gun, my keys, you've surrounded me with way more men with guns than I could ever fight off and you have my partner and my friend, what the hell could I possibly do, damn it?!" Peter exclaimed angrily, raising his voice. Clark scoffed, lowering his arm.

"Fine. But don't do anything stupid." He said. Peter walked quickly to Neal, examining him with his eyes.

"Neal? Neal hey. Neal." He said, rousing him. Neal moaned.

"Ptr'…Pe…hur…h'rtsss…" He squeezed the words gruelingly out of his throat, pushing his head from side to side. Peter placed a hand on his forehead and hair, gently pushing Neal's locks back nervously.

"Shshshsh…Neal where are ya' hit, Neal?" Peter said quietly, looking toward his side for an answer…but that wasn't what was bleeding.

"The back. He was hit in the back." Clark responded, looking at Burke. Neal's moans increased in number, his breath heaving around them. Peter swallowed, seeing the sweat on Neal's forehead and his paling complexion. Peter put an arm around Neal's shoulders to bring him up a little so he could see the wound more.

"Oh!" Neal exclaimed breathlessly, his head dropping back in pain as Peter surveyed.

"Sorry Neal, sorry bud." He apologized. "You're okay." Peter said as Neal's hand came up, his breathing rough as he tried to recover from the movement. Peter took his hand, squeezed it, and swallowed hard.

"He needs a doctor." Peter said stoically. Clark shook his head.

"Burke you know that isn't gonna happen." He told him.

"It'd better happen! He needs a doctor!" Peter shouted.

"Hey calm down!" Clark demanded.

"Calm down? How can I calm down when my partner is laying here dying as you do nothing?!"

"Partner? Please. He's your pet con, Burke, don't forget that!"

Peter's vision was glowing red as he stood and dropped Neal's hand, standing to face the other man.

"He's my partner dammit." He growled strongly, fists clenched. "And if you don't get him a doctor and he dies, God so help me I'll make you wish it was you who had died instead." Peter spat coldly. Clark raised his brows and shifted. Neal moaned.

"Pe…Pet'r…agh..." Neal's pitch grew higher. Peter's head turned quickly back to Neal. June watched him, her heart breaking at the sound of him in so much pain. Peter took his hand again and stroked back Neal's hair.

"I'm here, Neal, I'm right here, you're going to be fine. Just fine." He spoke gently to the younger man through breathy words. Neal's eyes were too heavy to keep open…but he was in too much pain to fall asleep.

"Listen Burke…I know you've had some training in this..." Peter shook his head.

"It's not enough. Not for something like that."

"Well maybe it'll have to-" Clark started.

"I'll do it boss. I've done it before." A man spoke out from the crowd.

"Joe? Joe why didn't you speak up?" He asked the younger man, who was a little older than Neal.

"Well I was about to sir when Burke came in."

"Fine. Let's get him into his room, shall we?" Clark asked. Peter snapped his head up to look at the man, Joe.

"If you try anything funny-"

"Why would I? I want a share in that cash as well as anyone." He answered. Peter stood and two men came to help hoist Neal up off the couch and carry him into the bedroom. Luckily Neal was mostly unconscious for that part, but he still could feel the new strain it caused. He moaned. Peter followed as they brought him into the bedroom. They took off Neal's shirt and laid him onto his stomach. Peter got a rag to wipe off the blood around the wound and wipe off his face some. He has a cut on his head from falling after he was shot. Peter sat at the bedside, listening to Neal's heavy breathing and pain.

"Can't we give him something?" Peter asked, looking up at the man who was beginning to set up to remove the bullet and sew up the wound. The man looked at Peter, thinking. He couldn't give him anything too strong since then he wouldn't wake soon enough. Finally he nodded and went to find something in the medical cabinet. Peter sat with Neal and Joe did this, trying what he could to comfort his partner.

If Neal stirred, Peter consoled him with a gentle touch on his hairline or with a few words. Finally, Joe gave him a painkiller. Not a strong one…but it was something. As Joe began to work on finding the bullet, Neal clenched in pain, looking to Peter with pleading eyes. Peter looked back, offering a calm, sure disposition to Neal's internal turmoil. Truthfully, Peter wasn't at all calm, but he didn't want Neal thinking that. Soon Neal gave into his pain and blood loss, finally passing out into a much more manageable state. Peter sighed in relief.

"Sorry Neal…" He muttered quietly, patting the sweat from Neal's face. "Guess you could say we're in trouble." He whispered quietly.

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Hope you enjoy chapter 2!**

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Peter looked on as Joe dug out the bullet lodged in Neal's back. He kept a stoic, concentrated face, making sure to protect Neal. He didn't trust the crew one bit. When all was over and Joe had successfully gotten the bullet out and the wound stitched up, Clark waltzed back in, holding his gun at his side as some other men followed.

"I dunno how well he'll pull through, but I've done what I know to do." Joe told the room. Peter pulled up the blanket higher onto Neal's back to cover his body more.

"Thank you." Peter forced, looking to Joe. Clark looked at the sleeping man then to Peter.

"You know, Peter, he could really use a doctor…" Clark suggested.

"Well are you going to let me get one?" Peter felt the mused venom in his question. Clark looked away and toward the wall, rolling his head.

"Oh Agent Burke, you know we can't allow such a circumstance." Clark told him. "Why, I'll tell you what…when we get our money we'll leave, Neal can have his doctor, and everything will be right with the world once again."

Peter looked at him blatantly. "Well I sure hope you weren't thinking you'd be invited to brunch the next day." He remarked back. Clark chuckled darkly.

"Not exactly…but Burke, I honestly do think it would be best to get your friend some help as soon as you can, don't you?"

Peter looked at the man, straightening in his chair, shifting a bit.

"See Agent, what I'm getting at is that if you were to say...help us look for the money, we'd surely be out of here sooner." Clark responded matter-a-factly. Peter looked at him.

"I don't even know where that money is." Peter responded. Clark nodded.

"I figured you wouldn't…but you are valuable to us…you and your resources…plus you've got a pretty good motivation to help us… I'm sure poor Neal there sure won't be in peace when he gets up." The man's voice flowed through Peter like a slick snake. He looked back to Neal's pale form and swallowed smally. "Walk with me, Burke, let's leave the man to rest for a bit." Peter stood, complying. He didn't want them to take out anything he did wrong on Neal. He stood, looking down at Neal, and touched his arm gently before walking toward the door. "Don't worry, my men will look after him." He told Peter as the two walked out. _Well, that sure is comforting. _Peter thought sarcastically. _  
_

Clark led Peter to the living room. "Perhaps you can help me get the information out of this nice lady." Clark suggested. "If you will help me, that is." He said, turning to one of his men. "Untie the lady." He commanded before June's ties were cut and mouth ungagged. She coughed a few times, opening and closing her mouth some to get her mouth moistened and rubbing her wrists.

"Peter." She said, looking at him desperately. Scared. Peter nodded and walked toward her a bit.

"Sit, Agent Burke, please." Clark told him. Peter complied, sitting next to June as she put a hand on his upper arm. She looked at him with questioning eyes.

"How is he, Peter?" She asked, concerned.

"He's doing fine…for now..." Peter told her. The two both looked up to Clark as he spoke.

"Exactly…for now. Keep that in mine, Agent Burke." He said slowly, sitting in one of the chairs. He balanced his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together. He looked toward the floor briefly. "Now, I want you two to understand that this isn't just for greed or the thrill or a compulsive need to steal things." Clark admitted to them. Peter narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Then what's this all about?" He asked, curiosity spiking in him.

"Mark, can you please get Tracy to show our friends why we're here?" He asked, looking up. Mark nodded briskly, exiting the room. What and who he brought back after a minute surprised both Peter and June. A little girl looked up at them all, her sleepy eyes glassy and weighted from the arms of a blonde woman.

"Daddy?" She whispered, looking to him. Clark stood, looking to his daughter. His eyes scanned her. "It's okay baby girl." He told her, stroking her hair. She seemed to become relaxed more as her father did so. "We're gonna get you all fixed up again." He smiled to his daughter as the woman looked to the floor with shame. Peter's eyes watched them as June's shocked expression mirrored her feelings.

Peter's mind whizzed. How could he ever take a little girl with him for something like this? What kind of father would do that? June's grip tightened on Peter as they both locked eyes. Clark turned away and the woman and the girl were ushered out.

"See why now, Burke? My little girl is in a bad way. She needs a treatment, and she needs it bad. I'm gonna give it to her." He told the agent sternly. Peter's jaw tightened.

"Why bring her here? Surely it is no place for a child to be when you're out here shooting people and-"

"Where else would I keep her? I'm not a well-liked man, Burke." Clark said. _Gee, wonder why. _Peter thought to himself. "If someone were to get a hold of her, they could do anything and everything they wanted. I'm not about to let that happen." He told them. "She didn't see anything, she was with her mother upstairs, I made sure of that, and I have a man guarding them. Some men were promised a small cut of the money once we're done, which is something I presume is of a vast amounts...some are in debt to me.." Clark looked down at them from the other side of the coffee table. "That is what you're going to help us find since she claims she doesn't know where it is and Caffrey's laid up." He gestured toward June, who looked at him in the eyes as Peter quickly glanced at her.

Peter felt the fire behind his eyes again. "So if you needed him, why would you shoot him?"

"It wasn't supposed to be that way. We never planned for it, one of my idiot men here decided it would be a good idea to shoot him." He told Peter, sighing. "Well, I'll give you and your little friends some time to think it over while we start to survey the house…look for clues." He walked a bit toward the door. "You seem like an honorable man, Burke, I'm sure you'll make the right choice…After all, he is your partner, as you've said, and the quicker we're out of here the quicker he gets a doctor." He reminded, opening the door as some other men followed him out. Two stayed on the patio and one inside the living room. Clark looked at them both.

"Oh and Agent Burke, don't try anything funny. I've got you surrounded and the rooms are rid of any type of weapon you could possibly think of...at least you don't have to worry about spam email and telemarketers your cable is cut too." He smiled. "Have a nice time you too." He told them, closing the door. Peter looked toward June.

"Oh Peter." She shook her head at him. "When they brought him up here I thought…I thought he was gone." She said. "I'm going to go see him." She patted his arm and stood as Peter nodded at her. He would go in also in a minute as he connected eyes with one of the guarding men outside.

Peter stood and went to the kitchen, moving to the cabinet where Neal kept the knives. He pretended he didn't know where anything was as he opened it, looking for something, anything to use to get them out of here. They'd taken all the knives. Peter briefly caught eyes with one of the men who was now snickering and wished he could just shove the smile off his face. His face hardened as he opened the cabinet containing glasses and took two, filling them with water. He headed into the hall and down to Neal's room, meeting June's questioning eyes. On the way there, he noticed that there were no longer wine bottles on the rack.

"What are we gonna do, Peter?" She asked, stroking Neal's neck a bit from her seat behind him. Peter sat on the other side.

"They took all the knives." He told her. "I don't have to look to know they took the butter knives, forks, spoons…they even took the wine bottles." He told her, taking a seat at the other side of Neal's bed. June sighed.

"There must be something we can do." She said. Peter looked up to her.

"June why didn't you just give them the money? I mean we can always track that down later and insurance-"Peter started.

"Peter I don't know where that money is myself." She answered. "I honestly, truthfully don't. Byron hid it and then…well then he died. He never got the chance to tell me. It could be hidden in the walls for all I know." She said sadly. "I would have given it to them Peter, oh I definitely would have." She said, the pain in her eyes stark. Peter nodded.

"Alright June…we'll just have to think this one out then." Peter sighed, looking at her. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking and trying to come up with something as they sat with Neal. Suddenly, a moan came from Neal, alarming both sets of eyes to him.

"Neal? Neal." Peter whispered, seeing the younger man shift. "Don't move Neal, you're okay." He told him, placing a hand onto Neal's. Neal's eyes fluttered open and June stood, looking over Neal's back in attempt to look at his face.

"P'tr." Neal breathed, eyes blinking lazily up at him. Peter moved closer and put his hand on the not shot side of Neal's back.

"Don't try to speak, you're gonna be just fine, okay? Just rest. I'm right here." Peter told him calmly. Neal's eyes furrowed.

"Ptr….Ptrrr…thir…thirsty." Neal squeezed out. Peter nodded.

"Okay…let's get you flipped over so we can give you some water…just relax." Peter spoke evenly, despite the fear welling in him for his partner. He had to be steady, that was what Neal needed. "We're both here, June too. We're gonna help turn you over, okay?" Peter said, earning a muffled noise of confirmation from Neal. Slowly, carefully, Peter steadied his hand onto the side of Neal's back that wasn't wounded. He and June very slowly, as gently as they could, rolled Neal onto that shoulder to get him to be laying on his back instead of his stomach. Neal's breath hitched as a quiet, high squeak of pain escaped Neal's mouth, which had contorted in pain just as his other features had.

"Easy now…easy." Peter said, putting a pillow under Neal's wounded side to take off some of the pressure the stitches would face. Neal's chest was heaving, his eyes were closed, and sweat formed on his tilted forehead. Peter's eyes were wide with the realization that his partner was definitely not doing too well. June looked on, holding Neal's hand when he was finally on his back.

"Oh sweetie." She said quietly, looking at him. "I'll be right back." She told Peter. Peter nodded at her and sat on the edge of Neal's bed. Neal's eyes opened slightly to look at Peter, breathing.

"That's it, easy does it." Peter said, patting Neal's arm. He let his fingers gently rest around his arm as Neal composed himself. Neal smiled a little.

"Aw P'tr you do care..." Neal croaked out, looking at Peter as he tilted his head back against the pillows instead of to the side. Peter couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head at Neal.

"Neal, for once there's an actual reason for you not to talk." He told his partner, taking the glass of water off the table as he brought his hand up to help support Neal behind his head.

"Yeah and it's cause' I'm a pain..." Neal smirked playfully, scoffing slightly. The tight movement must have jarred Neal, because Peter saw his whole frame tense up, back arching and eyes scrunching. Peter rested a hand onto Neal's.

"Easy, easy now Neal, don't move." He told his partner, watching intently as Neal started to relax again. "Even though you are indeed a pain, the real reason is because you're _in _pain.." Peter corrected. "Here, drink some water." Peter again moved his hand behind Neal's head and helped to lift it slightly so that Neal could drink from the glass. He grunted, eyes again scrunching in pain. Neal's lips curled around the glass as he thirstily drank it.

"Slow, Neal, don't chug it." He instructed. Neal slowed his gulping pace a bit. When he was done, Neal's head eased back down into the pillows along with Peter's hand. "That's it…easy." Neal worked on catching a few breaths as June walked in, carrying a bowl of cool water and some rags. She smiled lightly at Neal.

"Hello handsome…here maybe this will help you feel a little bit better." June soaked a rag in the water, throwing a glance toward Peter. She didn't like his color one bit. She gently blotted Neal's face with the rag. Peter pulled up the blankets to cover Neal more.

"Th'nks mom, dad…" Neal replied weakly, but sarcastically. Peter shook his head and June smiled.

"What did I say about speaking, Neal?" Peter asked, looking at the man with a feigned sternness.

"Is it 'cause I'ma pain or cause I'm in pain?..." Neal retorted. Peter sighed, but couldn't help the corners of his lips from curling upwards.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone! Glad to see you all are enjoying this story! Thank you for all your kind words, you guys are awesome!**

**Hope you enjoy this next chapter, have fun!**

**:)**

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In…out…in…out. Peter looked at the steady fall and rise of his partner's chest, caught in a rhythm of it. June sat on the other side of the bed, dozing slightly. She'd rouse every so often and change the rag on Neal's head. Peter was thankful he'd had someone else there with him.

Neal fell back asleep not long after they'd given him some water. Peter had actually gotten a chance to tell Neal a bit about what was going on. It was a short time after the sun came up before the crew walked back upstairs again, looking down the hall and into Neal's room. Clark pounded on the wall next to Neal's room and looked at Peter, summoning him with the inching motion of his pointer finger. Peter got up, earning a look from June as she opened her eyes and looked up at Peter. She then looked behind her at the men before turning slowly back to Neal and tending to the rags on his forehead.

"So Agent Burke, we've come to the conclusion that there's something that goes with this…" Clark pulled out a key from his pocket, holding it up. Peter held out his hand for it and Clark put it into his hand. "What do you think it's for? Found it in an old book." Peter turned the key in his hand, walking toward the window.

"Hard to say….I mean it could be for anything." He said simply, holding it up to the sunlight. He watched as the light reflected off the key.

"Well…I mean do you think it's more of a..." Clark started off. Peter examined the key, listening to Clark's drawls about how the black scuff marks on the edge of the key could mean something about lead paint peeling off on the key from the inside of the keyhole. Peter then caught a very sharp glimpse of light in his eye, making him look up.

He suspected it maybe from a car, so as he looked up Peter didn't think anything of it. He looked back down at the key again, half listening to Clark. Peter felt same sharpness ping his eyes multiple more times…almost like a…pattern? Peter looked back up, looking for the source. Suddenly he saw it. He saw it and he recognized the patterns associated with it. Morse code.

P-E-T-E-R

Peter looked up and his back straightened, looking at the code in the rays of light. He turned the key in his fingers.

N-E-A-L

It repeated. Peter didn't have anything to reflect back with. He swallowed tightly, thinking of who it possibly could be. Peter tried to manipulate the key in his hand to reflect light back, but it was very dim.

M-O-Z-Z-I-E

The pattern spelled out. Peter's eyes grew at the sight. He kept a short smile to himself and hid it again before turning around and looking at Clark, who was finishing his ramble. Peter shifted a bit and looked around him.

"It could be…but I mean it also could be a key to the shed." Peter said honestly, not knowing, as he handed the key back. He walked slowly into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves on his white button down shirt. Clark walked with him.

"Who would keep something like that in a book?" Clark asked. Peter shrugged, opening the fridge. His mind wandered with a plan.

"I don't know, but I've seen a lot of weird things before so…" Peter told him. "You don't mind if I grabbed some breakfast?" He asked, gesturing toward the fridge Clark rolled his eyes.

"I'm not your mother, Burke." He said plainly, moving back on to the same topic of the key. "What do you know about trying to unlock safes, huh?" He questioned. Peter's eyes roamed the fridge. _Common Neal, common…_

Peter looked for something that needed a spoon to eat. He actually found some yogurt and pulled a cup out, moving to the draw to find a spoon. They had indeed taken the forks and knives, but not the spoons. Peter pulled it out and flipped open the foil on the top, speaking with Clark about what he thought about the key. He then turned back to face the window, seeing the light.

-T-E-R

Peter moved the spoon to reflect the sun, discretely shielding it from Clark and his men with his body as he spoke about the possibility of a safe. He quickly picked up his spoon and held it to reflect the light.

H-E-R-E Peter spelled out. S-O-S He said, waiting for a response as Clark still rambled. Peter began to eat some of the yogurt with the tip of the spoon, trying to be desecrate. He didn't want them to see what he was doing.

W-H-A-T W-R-O-N-G Mozzie's light spelled out.

C-L-A-R-K W-A-N-T J-U-N-E-S S-A-F-E Peter replied. He knew that Mozzie wouldn't know who the man was, but at least he'd have his name. It might help.

N-E-A-L

S-H-O-T Peter spelled back. B-A-D

C-O-M-I-N-G Mozzie said back O-V-E-R Peter watched, looking at him through the window. He wondered how Mozzie could have even known there was trouble…Then again Mozzie has his ways…his very strange ways.

"Hey, Burke. Have you been listening to anything that I've said?" He asked angrily. Peter turned his head toward the side and nodded carefully. "What the hell are you doing?" Peter froze. Shit. He hadn't seen him, had he? Peter turned toward him.

"Eating?" He asked, taking a full spoon of the yogurt finally. Clark narrowed his eyes.

"You'd better not be into anything fishy, agent…or else I can have someone go in there and carve some more of that little pet con you've got up in there…wouldn't want that." He said, eying the agent. One of the men from the side looked at Peter skeptically and slyly moved toward Clark. He whispered something into his ear.

Peter could feel his veins constricting, nerves picking at his insides. A smile formed on Clark's face...no not a smile. An evil grin.

"So ya think you're the king of the hill, ey Burke?" He chuckled darkly. "Pulling that little spoon trick on us? Tell me, who were you signaling to? Your little FBI friends?" He asked, circling Peter. Peter crunched his brows together.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Peter answered, pausing in his eating. Clark's eyes picked up a bit further onto his forehead.

"You'd better hope you don't…cause if you do we're not gonna be too happy…and if we're not happy, no one is...and then people get hurt." Peter kept eye contact with him. Clark scratched the back of his neck.

"Alrighty…well have it your way…My friends, can you bring Agent Burke back to his little family room and lock them in? I've got work to do and he can't be trusted." Clark insisted. The men took Peter by the arms and roughly walked him down the hallway. By the time they did, they threw him into the room, causing Peter to fall to the ground. June looked up from her spot from Neal as the goons shut the door and locked it with a click. She stood, seeing Peter.

"Peter are you okay?" She asked, moving toward him. She placed her hands onto his upper back and arms as he stood. Peter nodded.

"Fine, fine…" He insisted, getting up. "Help is on the way." He told her in a hushed tone. She tilted her head.

"What?"

"Mozzie…he was…well I there were patterns of light that kept hitting me, really bright. It was Mozzie…and he actually was using Morse code." Peter said. June smiled.

"Oh, well that's a good thing then." She said in an optimistic tone. Peter nodded.

"I just hope he's got a good enough plan…one not involving the police or the FBI…June if Clark sees them he's gonna kill all three of us." He said grimly. June looked away briefly.

"Well if there's one thing about Mozzie it's he sure does know how to get out of things, Peter…we'll be okay." She said. Peter was quiet for a moment, nodding as his eyes tore away and roamed the room. He looked at Neal.

"How's he doing?" He asked quietly. June swallowed a little.

"Well…he's a bit warm, Peter." She said, her eyes tired and concerned. Peter walked toward his partner and moved a hand to his head. He felt the warmth and pulled his hand back after a few seconds.

"I sure hope this isn't getting infected…he needs a doctor." Peter sighed. June came up alongside of Peter.

"Well…all we can do is hope…Mozzie will get us out, Peter…he will." She told him, looking at Neal's sleeping form. She dismissed herself, straightening up a few things around the room. Peter sat by Neal's side and watched.

He could see the youth of Neal's features. The smooth lines, the quiet innocence. He could see the child within his partner. Peter wondered why sleep always seemed to take years off a person. Perhaps it was just the blindness, the dependence which wasn't available when awake. It was the natural way the muscles in his face relaxed, which weren't tainted by the stress of day. Ignorance. The beautiful, innocent ignorance.

Neal was running. Neal was running from the terror chasing him, running to Peter.

"_NEAL!" _Peter shouted almost in an echo, extending his arm toward him. He was stationed on a tall rock above the path Neal ran on. Surrounding them were rocks, sharp and crumbling. His hand opened, thirsting to curl around Neal's hand. Neal could feel the heat of the environment suffocating him, burning him from the inside out as if it had caught fire in his lungs. He saw Peter's desperate eyes as the ground was crumbling beneath his flailing feet. Neal looked backward and realized that if he were to miss a step, he'd be falling into whatever flaming pit was below him.

"_Come on, Neal!" _The steadying voice shouted again, sweat dripping off his drenched locks. Neal could make out the reflection of sweat on Peter's face as the light from the flames licked it. He concentrated on that, extending his arm out to the older man. However, as he reached to grasp at Peter, Neal felt the pain. The blistering, hotter than the fire behind him pain.

It hit him in the back, making him stumble and cry out over the roar of the fire. He fell to the floor. He turned quickly and looked behind him, seeing the ground falling…falling…falling.

"P-P-PEEETERRR" It was coming for him. Neal cast his eyes toward Peter, looking up at him with the largest pools of blue that Peter had ever seen…what he wished he would never see.

The pools of silent, fearful hostage.

"_NEAAAALLL!" _Peter cried, looking at his partner. Neal fell away…fell into the flames and burning dust that swallowed him. Neal's fear turned solid cold in his veins, the pain and fear stunning him into a state of rigor mortis.

Yes, Neal had been running.

But suddenly so was Peter.

* * *

**Annnnd cut! **

**Thank you all for reading/favoriting/reviewing/following!**

**Hope you have a great night/day! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all!**

**Sorry for the long wait! I've been so busy with my college work! I try and work on these chapters whenever I can, so I've been writing a little here and there all week. **

**I apologize that I do not have a scheduled day for releasing new chapters, I will try to get at least one out a week. I have to do it when I can, but I mean usualy my week is pretty unpredictable, which makes it impossible for a new chapter day!**

**Sorry again, but I hope you understand and that you enjoy this next chapter!**

**Thank you all so much for your support, words, and awesomeness! **

* * *

Peter was off dozing in the small couch at the other side of Neal's room, falling into an exhausted sleep. He hadn't slept the night before, and wasn't about to until he decided just to rest his eyes for a few minutes…however June knew that he wouldn't be just a few minutes. Peter looked just a young as Neal looked in his sleep. June watched the two men as if they were boys, admiring them. She smiled softly and looked back at Neal, silently praying that everything would pan out.

After a while June too fell asleep in the long chair with a footrest. She cuddled up onto her side as Neal dreamt…if you could call it dreaming. It wasn't until Neal started screaming that Peter woke up, his eyes alarmed and wildly searching.

Neal's cry filled the air, followed by frightened calls.

"P-P-Peterrr…" He drawled. Peter stood and June's eyes snapped open. Peter looked around and to Neal, making sure there was no one else there. He ran toward Neal, crossing the room in no time.

"Neal? Neal what's wrong?" He asked hurriedly, leaning over his partner. Neal's eyes were scrunched together and his back was arched, his head pushing down into the bed below him.

"Peeeterr…no Peter, help me, please help me!" He muttered, panicked. Peter put a hand onto Neal's shoulder and one on his torso.

"Neal listen to me, you're fine, it's just a dream, open your eyes for me, I'm right here and you're fine." He spoke evenly to Neal despite his own panic. Neal's skin was on fire. His breath came in small huffs and his teeth bore down in pain. Pain from the wound in his back as he arched it, making the skin crumple irritatingly around the wound. "Neal. It's a dream." He reminded his friend as Peter saw Neal's face relax a bit and eyes open. Peter moved a hand to Neal's head, seeing the pain in his friend's eyes.

"Hey…there you are, you're alright, it was just a dream." Peter said calmly. Neal swallowed, looking at Peter with glassy eyes.

"Peter?...I…I'm sorry…" Neal spoke, looking at the man above him. "I just…" Neal's hand moved to clutch at a part of Peter's shirt loosely, his grip weak.

"Shhh, Neal you're fine. It's fine." He said, moving his own hand to grasp Neal's. He held it gently. "Just relax, you'll feel better if you relax." Neal did. He relaxed a bit more. June moved a bit to feel Neal's forehead.

"It's gone up, Peter." She said quietly, concerned. Peter looked at Neal as his eyes closed a bit.

"Neal, how do you feel?" He asked. Neal blinked lazily at him.

"Hurts." He told him truthfully. Peter knew Neal wasn't playing around. He'd never really admit that if he wasn't in so much pain. Peter's eyes were intense, burning. He needed a doctor.

"Okay…just hang in there." He told Neal, wishing he could do something, anything, to help. June moved to place a cool rag onto Neal's forehead again. Neal closed his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest with the rising fever. He moved his head to the side, handsome features contorting into a painful grimace. Peter squeezed Neal's hand.

"It'll just be a little bit now, Neal. Mozzie's getting help. He'll get us out of this soon…then maybe you can do a little bit of flirting with those nurses you so love." Peter told him. Neal's eyes opened again and he looked to Peter. Peter drew a chair closer and sat down.

"What?" He asked, flustered. Peter smiled slightly.

"Leave it to Mozzie…he caught me with some Morse code with a light when I was standing by the window…He said he was on his way." Peter said. The corners of Neal's mouth turned upwards at the thought.

"Leav-it to Moz." He croaked, his lips down turning again. He swallowed dryly, struggling to actually complete the mundane task. He coughed, the force rocking his body and causing him to shudder in pain. Peter looked at Neal and quickly stood, getting some more water in a glass.

"Here, Neal, you thirsty? Here let's get you some water." He said, moving to support Neal a bit and to help him sit up more. "June do you have some Tylenol or something? We need to try and bring this fever down some." Peter said as Neal stopped coughing and breathily leaned back into the pillows more, the hole in his back burning. Peter moved and picked Neal up a little, earning a yelp from Neal.

"Wait..wAIt." He shuddered. Peter stopped, looking at Neal. "Need…Need a minute.." He huffed. Peter gently lowered him some. Neal closed his eyes and breathed, trying to relax. He hurt…he as hurting bad. Peter bit the inside of his mouth, his face tense. He didn't even realize it until Neal's breath evened more and June returned with a few tablets of Tylenol. She placed them into Peter's hand. Peter thanked her and moved again behind Neal more. Neal opened his eyes.

"Ready?" Peter asked. Neal nodded gently, moving his arms to support him more. Peter lifted Neal some and helped him to drink the water and swallow the pills. Neal drank as much as he honestly could and swallowed the pills.

"No more…please no more." He asked of Peter, feeling his stomach starting to roll. Peter complied and gently placed his partner back down onto the bed. Neal breathed again, exhaustion setting into his features. "Peter…" He breathed. Peter sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes opening as his chest heaved some. His arm came up toward where Peter was, his hand flopping toward the older man. Peter took it in his, realizing Neal's silent request.

"You're okay…I'm right here." Peter told his partner. "And I'm not leaving you. Just rest, Neal. You're safe." And Neal complied, feeling Peter's hand on his and his indent in the side of the bed.

Peter watched his partner, friend, and responsibility fall asleep. Peter could feel the moist heat of the fever clinging to Neal's skin. He moved slightly, leaning to ring out a washcloth into the water basin. He then patted some of the sweat from Neal's exhausted, uneasy face and finally rested the cloth onto Neal's forehead. He sighed, eyes still unmoving from the man he was looking down on, trying to protect him. But Peter couldn't protect him from the fire beginning to burn within the younger man. Peter ran a hand through his own hair, blinking away his frustration.

June outstretched a hand to peter's back, rubbing it a little as she watched on.

"You'd better hope the doctor you find for him isn't beautiful…he'll never get rest." She told him, offering a small smile.

Peter's lips twitched into a smile briefly, shaking his head at the comforting thought of Neal with that spark of rambunctious life in his eyes and the charming playfulness he held so well.

* * *

Clarke and his men trudged up the stairs, looking for their captives. He moved in, huffily moving into Neal's room where they were. Only Clarke entered the room. Peter sat with his hand holding up his head near Neal, contemplating a plan. Wondering where Mozzie was. Clarke looked at him, but moved past and went to June. June looked up at him from where she sat. Peter sat up

"Get up." He commanded. She eyed Peter for a moment before doing as she was told. She stood slowly, shifting her gaze to Clarke. "Have you been lying to me?" He asked her. She crunched her eyes together.

"Why would I be lying to you?"

"To protect your damn money while my little girl is out there dying." He pressed, angrily pointing toward the door. June looked at peter again, who had stood, shifting his eyes from June to Clarke to Neal.

"Well my friend right there is dying too, do you think I'd let this go any longer than it has?" She asked him, gesturing to the man in bed. Neal was covered in sweat still, his face still not relaxed. Peter looked down to Neal and felt his blood pressure spike once again, as it had been since this all happened. Clarke glanced Neal's way and sighed.

"There's a rather large safe in the basement, what's the combo?" He asked sternly.

"The one on the left?" She asked, looking at him. He nodded.

Peter suddenly got an idea. He looked at June from his gaze on Neal, desperately hoping she caught his urgency from behind Clarke. With God's luck he did. Peter shook his head at her, mouthing "No". June mirrored Peter.

"No…no I can't say that I do, I'm sorry." She looked down at Neal. Peter said a silent prayer. Clarke nodded, growling slightly with a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. Burke. You're not skilled in cracking codes, I know that…" He muttered. Peter nodded, looking at Clarke. "But you've got friends in high places, do you not?"

Peter nodded limitedly, looking at him. Clarke reached into his pocket and whipped out his cell phone. He extended it toward Peter.

"Call him." Clarke demanded. Peter took the phone and held back his smile. It worked. He dialed Mozzie's number, praying the man would pick up. The phone rang a few times before Peter heard the voice of the one person he knew could really help.

"Hello?" Mozzie's voice answered.

"Hello Mr. Ayeshire." Peter greeted back, emphasizing the name a little bit. Mozzie recognized Peter's voice after a moment, a bit confused as his brain was analyzing the situation.

"Peter?" Mozzie asked. Peter looked toward Clarke, seeing his eyes burning.

"Yep...listen, I need you to do me a favor for the bureau…can you come help us break open a safe?" Peter asked, his voice level and calm.

"I can…yeah." Mozzie played along. "Though I may need a little bit of time…" Mozzie coded out. To Peter, this translated into _but I don't have a plan yet_.

"We really need you to come now…it's urgent. It's probably not going to need extensive tools either." _I know but I have a plan. _Peter told him as Clarke waved his hand as if to say "hurry up".

"Okay Agent Burke, I'll be there. Where exactly is there?" He asked Peter. Peter gave him June's address, to make it more convincing.

"Thank you Mr. Ayeshire. See you soon." Peter said, hanging up. Clarke stole the phone back and stored it away in his pocket.

"Good. If he isn't here soon it's your ass on the line…if I see one federal agent, Burke, I'm gonna put that man right there out of his misery." Clarke said, eyeing them both before walking out and shutting the door behind him. June looked at Peter questioningly. Peter nodded, smiling slightly. June smiled too.

"Peter, you are dangerous." She chuckled. Peter smirked a bit at her and shrugged.

"I'm not counting my victories yet, June." He said, looking at Neal, who had shifted slightly, his face contorting in pain. June nodded. Peter sat back down and patted Neal's arm, rubbing it a bit. "Just hang in there Neal, you're going to be alright." Peter told his partner, hoping that he wouldn't be lying to Neal.

* * *

**There you have it! Sorry it was a bit short. I wanted to do more but if I cut it short I could release the chapter right now and I feel bad for making you guys wait so long! Figured something was better than nothing!**

** Thank you all so much for reading, favoriting, reviewing, etc. You guys are amazing! Have a great day/night!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ciao bellezze!**

**So I got to finish some more to make up for being so long, haha! Even if it is just a small one :)**

**Buona lettura!**

**(I really wish I could just type in sign language...it's my favorite language ever!)**

* * *

Mozzie fumbled with his patterned jacket in the dark window of June's door, straightening out. He let out a breath and took a once over to check himself out. He really didn't know what Peter was up to, but he figured he'd go with it. If it was really as bad as he had said before, Mozzie needed to do something. He couldn't call the FBI. He knew that if he would have, they'd kill Peter and Neal. He didn't know if June was with them.

"And this is why the suits will never rid the world of con men...when they're in trouble they come running." He sighed quickly as he knocked on the door. He pushed his glasses up onto his nose and waited, holding his bag of supplies with him. The door opened after a moment, revealing a man around Neal's height. He was skinny and dressed in a striped suit.

"Get in here." The man commanded. Mozzie was grabbed inside by his arm, putting on a confused look. Inside on the floor was the blood. The dried blood. _Neal's _dried blood. He shifted his eyes a bit to see Neal's hat. A chill settled in his heart.

"I believe there was a mistake. I'm-" Mozzie started, looking up at the man.

"There was no mistake. You're Mr. Ayeshire, are you not?" The man asked and gestured toward his men to search Mozzie. Mozzie nodded.

"Well yeah…but I'm supposed to meet-"

"Agent Peter Burke, yeah we know. You're in the right place." The man responded. The goons stopped searching him. "Name's Clarke, and we've got a safe for you to crack here." He said. Mozzie shuffled a bit stiffening as he imagined a man without prior knowledge of this situation would be.

"Listen, I only do business with the FBI. I don't know what you're up to." Mozzie almost gagged on the words. _I only do business with the FBI_. He felt a twinge run up his back. _How degrading_, he commented to himself. Clarke rolled his eyes.

"You'll do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you to, and you'll get to keep your life." Clarke responded blatantly. Mozzie looked on him, unimpressed. Clarke scrunched his eyes together.

"Take him upstairs. Let Burke will talk some sense into him." Clarke said. Men grabbed Mozzie's arms. Mozzie stiffened.

"Do you mind?" Mozzie asked, looking toward his arms. The men looked at Clarke. Clarke nodded and the men let go, pushing Mozzie toward the stairs.

When Mozzie entered the room, he saw two more men standing in Neal's living room. He looked around for Peter.

"That way, insect." One of the men hissed. Mozzie narrowed his eyes and headed toward the bedroom, finally seeing Peter. Peter looked up from his spot in the chair and stood. June hadn't been facing the door. She saw Peter stand and turned in her chair, seeing Mozzie walk in.

"Thank you, pigs." Mozzie said under his breath as he looked toward them briefly. The men stood in the doorway. "Do you mind? I do have some business to discuss with Agent Burke." He said. The men looked at each other and stepped outside, but left the door open. They turned the other way. [i]Inexperienced hounds[/i] He thought to himself.

"Mr. Ayeshire." Peter greeted, his eyes flickering toward Neal. "Sorry about the circumstances but I honestly really need you to pick that safe." Mozzie looked over toward Neal, seeing how rough he really was. Mozzie brought his eyes to June and moved in the room more. He stood by the closet, which wasn't able to be seen by someone standing by the door due to the small hallway in the doorway. He brought his foot up quickly, leaning down slightly as he unlaced the leather. Peter noticed the thickness of the rubber bottom. It had to be about 2 ½ to 3 inches. His eyes met Mozzie's again.

"Well…you know I don't like doing these things, Agent Burke. I like to stay on the right side of the law." He spoke tightly, thinking about how glad he was Neal wasn't awake to hear this. Mozzie took off his shoe, leaving Peter with a confused look in his eye.

"I see…but technically you're still helping. My partner's in a serious condition and the sooner this happens, the sooner we can get him to a doctor." Peter said. Mozzie took out a compartment on the inside bottom of the shoes, pulling out a small pistol. He held it out toward Peter, who eyed the door to see if anyone was watching before taking it and pocketing it into his suit jacket. Mozzie also held out his hand for Peter to take a few bullets.

"I see…yes…well I guess I can make an acceptation…but I want no trouble once this is said and done." Mozzie said sternly, hurriedly tucking his shoes back together. June was smiling with subtle mischief, shaking her head at Mozzie from the other side. Mozzie tied up his shoes again and nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Ayeshire. I really do appreciate it." Peter said in a serious, meaningful tone. He wanted to ask Mozzie how he knew to start Morse code. How could he have known they were in trouble? Mozzie nodded, looking toward Neal with a glimpse of concern.

"Just take care of your partner, agent Burke." Mozzie told him, walking out of the room and then down the stairs with the men. _Take care of him, Suite, he's about all I got_.

* * *

Neal squirmed in his suffocating sheets and blankets, feeling what seemed to be the never ending burning of the wound in his back. He was so foggy. So clouded. Where was he even? Honestly, he couldn't even get a grasp on the fact that he was actually some type of a…thing. A person. A living person. Neal opened his eyes. Opened his eyes and blinked heavily at the brightness above him.

_Peter._ He remembered. He didn't know where. He didn't know what. But he knew who. He knew the name and the safety associated with it.

"P'tr..." He gasped out, writhing weakly against the weight of the blankets on him. Peter emerged, a swimming, bowing figure in front of his eyes. It made him nauseous. Neal felt someone…something take his hand. He saw briefly his lips moving and some type of strange noises follow. However, Neal couldn't make it out. Neal closed his eyes and reached out with his other hand, grasping for Peter's jacket. Once he had actually managed to get it, holding it loosely, Neal breathed against the pain. So much pain. He was unable to get away from it. He wanted to just curl into himself. Neal shifted a bit and felt the pain flare.

"Ah!" He scrunched his features together. He then felt two steady, cool hands push down on him, trying to get him to stay still. Neal opened his eyes a little and saw a figure that he assumed was Peter over him and stilled instead of fighting it. He was too weak to fight it. Neal passed into the confusing whirl of unconsciousness.

* * *

Peter heard a small amount of noise from Neal not long after Mozzie left the room. He then heard the rustle of the blankets, a groan or so, just as he had been for a while now….but then he heard Neal gasp out his name. Peter went to Neal's side and sat on the bed, seeing his red-rimmed eyes flashing around the room, looking at nothing…nothing at all.

"Neal. Hey." Peter said, taking his hand. His very hot hand. June looked on, her face twinging with concern with every one of Neal's movements.

"Neal, calm down, relax. You need to relax. You're gonna be out of here soon. Really soon." Peter told him. He saw Neal's eyes closing, and thought maybe he'd relax…but he didn't. Neal reached desperately for Peter and caught hold of his jacket. Peter moved his other hand to take Neal's and squeezed it gently. "Neal?" He asked when Neal moved himself a little to the other side of his body, his legs moving with him as he squirmed in the sheets.

"Ah!" Peter heard the yelp and gently settled him.

"Whoa whoa whoa…calm down. You need to calm down." He told Neal, who had finally settled. He heard Neal's heavy breathing, taking a wash cloth again from the basin and wringing it out. June had just changed the water.

"He's worse Peter…oh he's definitely worse." She said with a hand by her lips, worried. Peter nodded, looking at Neal.

"He's higher…if that's even possible." He muttered, his hand moving to Neal's wrist. "And his heart rate is through the roof..." He said quietly, his face sinking just a bit more.

"What are we going to do, Peter?" She asked of him, crossing one arm across herself. Peter looked at her.

"Once Mozzie get's down there, I'm going to get rid of these jerks watching us." He started. "Then I'm gonna check the downstairs…and if no one's there, you and I are going to carry Neal down and get him in the car." Peter told her.

"But…Peter how are you going to get rid of the guys outside, surely you can't do that on your own. You can't shoot them, they'll hear you." She said. Peter looked at her.

"I'm not going to shoot them, I'm going to hit them over the head with something. Anything."

"But they took almost everything there was to hurt someone with." She said.

"I'll figure it out…it's our only chance with Mozzie downstairs with them. As soon as I get in the car and start driving to the hospital I'll call the FBI and bring them all down." He said. June looked at him.

"Sounds easier than I'm sure it is, honey." She said. He shrugged.

"What other chance do we have, June? Look at him, how much longer could he have? Definitely not long enough to find all that money." Peter said sadly. June nodded.

"When are we putting this into action?" June asked. Peter paused, looking at the clock for a moment.

"Now." He said, meeting her eyes.

* * *

**Dun dun duuuuhhhh!**

**Grazie, i miei amici! **

**Hope you guys have a great day/night and hopefully I won't be too long with the next chapter! ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone!**

**Finally got a chance to write this chapter, so excited!  
**

**So, what did you guys think of the premier? SO GOOD YET SO SAD! :(**

**Why does the series have to enddddd? -cries- Also, we are almost to the end of this story! I'm thinking about 1-2 chapters left depending, we'll see how it goes.**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter, my friends! **

* * *

Peter Burke wasn't a defenseless man. Respectful of human life? Of course; he wouldn't be an agent if he wasn't. However, defenseless? Never. Now Peter sat slipping the rod through the curtain's grip in Neal's stuffy room. June watched on and placed another rag onto Neal's head.

At this point, Neal hadn't been resting. His raging fever had made sleep impossible, and yet he wasn't really awake. His head pivoted from his neck on the bed, pushing deeply into his pillow against the pain. His hair was matted and overall he wasn't with it one bit. June had tried to get him to sit still.

"Neal…Neal honey, you're alright dear, just relax. We're gonna help you." She told him, patting down his sweat-covered face. His eyes fluttered, opening and closing, his breath hitched after every few seconds, coming out in heaves otherwise.

"EEEter?" His hoarse voice called, hand moving up his torso. "PeeeEETER." He choked out, his eyes opening wide. Peter put the pole down quickly and went to him, taking his elbow and craning over into Neal's line of vision.

"Neal…I'm right here, relax…" Peter spoke, concerned eyes enhancing the wrinkles forming deeply on his creased forehead.

"PETER….he…they have me…didn't run…they got me….dunno….help….don't…no-" He stammered. Peter put a hand onto Neal's hairline, leaning in close

"NEAL." He tried desperately. "Neal, you're okay…you're gonna be okay…You need to rest." He told Neal, Neal's hand curling onto a tight fist around Peter's jacket, his head thrashing back and forth. Peter felt a shiver run down his spine, reaching silently for a wet rag in the bowl of cool water next to him. He began to pat down Neal's face and neck as Neal reached for another part of Peter to hold on to.

"Peter-" June started.

"Can you get me that Tylenol over there, June?" he asked of her, keeping his eyes focused on Neal. June turned and walked to go get it. Peter placed the rag back into the bowl, his eyes burning. He gently maneuvered himself behind Neal some, trying to elevate and position him so that Peter wouldn't be adding pressure to Neal's wound. Neal let out a cry as the older man picked him up some. Peter took the glass of water from the nightstand beside him. June returned with the medication, placing the pills into Peter's waiting palm.

"Come on, Neal…take a few sips." He told the man. Neal did so, his eyes drifting open and closed again and again. Peter popped the pill between Neal's lips. "Swallow this." Neal again did as he was told, hands coming up to touch the cup gently. "Easy now, partner, you're gonna get sick." He said softly. [i]Well it's not like I'm not sick, what's the difference?…[/i] Replied Neal's voice sarcastically in his head. Peter lightly scoffed at the thought. He then pulled the rest of the water away, not wanting Neal to get sick on it.

He used the rag again to gently dampen Neal's forehead. Neal had started to become drowsier, his eyes looking up to look into Peter's. His hand went limp onto his chest.

"Peherr…" He breathed, his heavy eyes blinking. He swallowed.

"Hey…you with us a little bit more now?" Peter asked. "_Then again I'm not sure if you ever were._" He smiled lightly, bittersweetly. Neal's eyes were pools of pain. Crisp, white hot pain. He just stared at Peter, his features crimping as if he didn't comprehend his words. Then they shut.

"Peter...oh my God." June breathed, a flash of horror streaking across her face as she moved closer, taking Neal's hand. Peter's own heart lept, but he felt Neal's heartbeat against his thigh.

"No June-he's…he's just out, that's all." Peter replied, seeing June's frame relieve some of the pressure that had started to build.

"Oh thank the Lord…he just became so still all of a sudden, Peter!" She breathed and Peter began to slide out from under Neal, placing a pillow where his leg had been propping him up. He noticed that if pressure was relieved off the wound, Neal was more comfortable. Of course, the notion was pretty obvious and Peter wondered why he didn't think about it earlier. He stood from the bed and looked at Neal for a second, fixing the blankets around the man.

"He can't wait. I'm doing this now." Peter told June. June nodded.

"Be careful, Peter please." She told him, sitting down on the side of Neal's bed. Peter nodded, taking the curtain rod in his hand.

"I'll be fine June, just watch him." He said softly to her. "No matter what you hear, don't come after me, okay? Just stay here." First, he peaked out into the living room and saw the men. One was positioned toward the middle of the room, one on the outside terrace. Peter stepped out, a certain kind of determination on his face. He held the rod at the side of his body so the man wouldn't be able to see it from the side. He walked steadily, quickly toward the other side of the room without a word. He knew that if he got the man in the living room behind part of the wall on the other side of the room, the man on the terrace wouldn't be able to see them much if he were to turn around.

"Hey…were are you going, Burke?" The man asked, turning toward the agent. Peter kept walking, pretending as if he didn't hear him, didn't see him. "Hey, Burke!" He replied sternly, walking toward Peter quickly.

"Listen, I'm just getting something." Peter told the man. The man stepped closer to Peter. The agent's eyes calculated the line of sight for the man on the terrace, his eyes flickering back to the man in front of him. His grip tightened on the rod.

"What? What more could you people possibly need?" The man questioned. Peter swung that rod out from the side of him swiftly, bringing the metal down hard and square on the man's head. The man tried to grab Peter's arm, but again the rod brought down onto his head. The man grabbed his head tightly as if it were going to fall from his shoulders. Peter pushed his foot into the man's stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. He hit him with the rod once more. The man's head lolled back onto the wood beneath him. Peter breathed, his eyes flickering toward the man outside on the terrace. If his eyes could light fires, the building would look like a bonfire by now.

* * *

June heard the scuffle outside the door, she kept her attention to tending to Neal, wiping his face and keeping the cloth cool and damp on his forehead. She prayed for Peter to come through. It was the only chance they had. The only chance Neal had. She shook her head. She heard a pause and she paused, her breath quieting. She waited a few more moments and heard the door to the terrace open. "Burke, what are you doing?" She heard through the door. She heard the hard footsteps. "What did you-" The man's voice started. Then came the scuffle outside the door once again. However, it was a much louder struggle. There was a large thump and scratching, choking….

And then-

_BANG!_

There was a shot.

June's natural reaction was to spring to her feet. She stood quickly, her blood pressure spiking. "Oh God…no.." She breathed, moving toward the door. Then suddenly the door opened.

"Peter." She gasped, moving toward him. Peter steadied his hand on the door frame, gathering himself.

"Fine, I'm fine." He said, waving her off as he tried to catch his breath. June peaked around Peter, seeing one man lying on the ground and she could make out a figure laying out on the other side of the room. Peter now had the formation of a dark bruise on the side of his head, blood falling from the split in his lip. What June didn't see were his bruised ribs, but it could be semi-inferred from the stiffness in his walk. Peter pushed himself off the frame toward Neal.

"We don't have a lot of time." He said to June. "Come on, help me get him up." Peter said, moving to the side of Neal. "Hey, Neal, Neal come on." He coaxed, pulling his arm up a bit. He pulled Neal's arm over his neck.

"OhhH!" Neal gasped, his head rolling back.

"Sorry bud, sorry." Peter apologized on an exhale. Neal yelped repeatedly under his breath as Peter shifted him from bed, the muscles around his eyes crushing his irises as pain flashed across his every feature. June supported his other side as they pulled the man onto his feet. "Come on, we gotta get going." Neal groaned, grunts escaping him through the whole process.

Peter couldn't think about it. He couldn't think about how much distress he was putting Neal through right now; how much pain. He just pushed on, trying to take as much weight as he could. They started down the stairs, working quickly yet patiently. He more or less dragged Neal down, not giving Neal enough time to really step down the stairs. Peter had his hand wrapped around Neal's torso, picking the younger frame up against his own. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Neal was ridged with effort, his breath coming in steep huffs. Peter looked toward the settee.

"Let's set him down." Peter huffed himself. The two walked toward the small couch and set him down, Neal slumping onto himself. He would have fallen forward, but Peter caught him, pushing him up against the wall. Neal cried out. "Neal." He slapped Neal's face gently. Neal took a moment of coaxing, but his lids opened to set his pupils on Peter. Neal's eyes roamed until they settled on Peter, looking confused and unfocused.

"Hey bud…we're getting you out of here and in a nice bed before you know it, just hold on." Peter asked. Neal nodded gently, but lurched forward. Lucky for Peter, Neal had been a bit too quick for his handler's hands. Peter caught his shoulder, but before he could pull him up, Neal retched. The contents of his stomach poured out and onto the floor, causing Peter to move back but keep his hands steady on Neal's shoulders. The last thing he wanted was for the younger man to fall into the puddle of his own puke. Peter gave Neal once more of a look over before standing.

"Hold him, June." He instructed. June did. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep him sitting up more, giving Peter a look of pity for Neal. Peter ran out the front door, down the stairs, and toward his cars.

_Shit._

He didn't have the keys. Peter groaned, looking around frantically. He then remembered the gun he'd taken off the man on the terrace when the man tried to shoot Peter. He brought it out and smashed the window, which set the car alarms off. He had to call for backup. He just had to. There was no other choice. If the men found them downstairs, surely they'd kill Peter, Neal, and June anyway. He had to try. He broke open the wiring compartment and Peter cut the alarm wire using the knife he kept in the glove compartment before grabbing his spare cell phone that he also kept in the glove compartment. For in case he had issues with his car and didn't have a phone for some reason. Peter dialed the office and when they picked up, rattled off a bunch of information. Once he had been assured that backup was on their way, Peter hung up. He got out of the car and ran back inside. When he opened the door, June was sitting, turned sideways with Neal leaning against her chest. She cradled his head against her, stroking the back of his hair with one hand and wrapping the other around his shoulders with the other arm. His face was buried in the fabric of her clothing. She looked up at Peter. Peter looked at her, about to move next to them to hoist Neal up once again. However, something stopped them.

"I'm pretty sure I heard something up here, I mean I'm telling you I did really honestly. I'm not just hearing things, something went off!" One voice said.

"Okay Charles…well let's just check it out then. I still think ya hearing things, boy." They were too close to the top of the stairs. There was nowhere to go. Peter grabbed his gun, pointing it at the opening of the door as he took a stance in front of Neal and June, his face hard, muscles taunt. The heads of the men came poking out of the doorway, turning to see Peter.

"Ahh…looks like your sanity is still intact, Charles." The man said, a hint of dark amusement in his tone.

"Yeah but your brains won't be if you take one more step." Peter's chilly, FBI calm voice replied.

* * *

**Annnnddd another cliff hanger!**

**Okay so thank you all for reading, you guys are the best ever!**

**Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows, it really means a lot and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying it!**

**Till' next time!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey all! **

**Sorry for such a long wait, I had finals and tests like crazy. However, now the semester is over, yay!**

**Enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

Peter's eyes were hard and unforgiving.

"You have to let us go, he needs a doctor." He said, an underlying urgency present in his calm, cool tone.

"We don't have to do anything, Burke. He's you're pet. Not ours." The other man said before pulling the trigger, but luckily Peter Burke was faster than him and dodged it. Neal became restless, thinking his partner had been shot.

"Peterr!" He called, shifting in June's arms.

"Neal, sit." She instructed, turning around to see Peter still standing. "Peter's fine, he's alright." She said, pulling him down to the seat once again. Another shot went off, then another. All the while Peter and the men had been dancing around the bullets. Peter had hit one of the men in the arm, one had grazed the side of Peter's head. It wasn't until Clarke spoke that the men stopped.

"What the HELL are you people doing?!" He shouted, looking toward where the three men were hiding from each other's shots. He now held Neal firmly in his grasp, June knocked out on the floor at their feet. Neal's head lolled. Quiet musings of June's name rolling across his tongue. Peter's mouth tightened. He straightened a bit from where he had poked his head out to get a better look. Clarke grabbed Neal's jaw. "THIS. Is what you want to stay alive, ey Burke?" He questioned. Peter didn't answer him, of course. "Well I'll tell you what. I've been so generous," Neal's legs started to turn to jelly as he slumped down more, his face crunching in pain. Clarke just pulled him upward by the arm, causing Neal to cry out.

"Much too generous. But you keep getting in my way. Neal this, Neal that..." He continued. Neal had reached his arm up to grab onto Clarke's arm to better steady himself, the sweat coming off his forehead like beads off a broken bracelet. His breathing was harsh and bothered. Peter's eyes were a conflict of pity for his friend, helplessness, and anger. Pure, white hot anger. "In fact, I feel like if I'd removed him from our whole equation here, everything would be so, so much better." He said. Clarke raised his gun to Neal's head. Neal's eyes opened to look up, seeing the gun. However, as Neal slumped down on the ground with all of his weight and out of Clarke's grasp, the gunshot went whizzing right over his head.

Peter had rushed out of his spot, ignoring the shots being fired behind him, and hid away from them on the stairs that went up to Neal's apartment, which blocked the shots and were closer to Clarke and Neal. In the meantime, June was awake, but didn't want them to know that. Not yet. Clarke hauled Neal back up to his feet, earning a groan from the younger man. "Let's try that again, shall we?" He questioned. Peter aimed his gun at Clarke. June was ready to pull Neal away, even if he fell again. Neal on the other hand was going to direct the bullet away from himself when Clarke pulled the trigger, again grabbing Clarke's arm to give himself support. Peter knew what he was doing, as Neal had looked at him with the 'I've got a plan' look.

"DADDY STOP IT." A little girl's voice called from above. Clarke's eyes shot up to the loft area to see his daughter standing there. "Daddy, don't do anything mean." She begged, looking at him.

"What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart, go back upstairs, okay? Shut the door, it'll be over soon." He said calmly to her.

"Don't hurt him daddy, oh don't hurt him!" She begged again. Peter saw his opportunity. Saw his opportunity to shoot the man dead. But the child. No one deserved to watch their parents die like that no matter how bad or evil they may be. Peter couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

"Shoot him, Clarke." Peter said coldly. Clarke shot him a glare. "Go ahead! Show her how good you are with that gun! You've done it already, now show her!" He said to Clarke. "Shoot him!" A rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins. For the first time this whole time, he felt power. And all because of the little girl by the railing of the loft. Tears streamed down her face. Clarke looked toward the men in the other room and motioned toward Peter, June, and Neal. "Watch them." He snarled, Pushing Neal at Peter. Neal flew unsteadily toward that direction and toward the floor, but Peter stood and caught him. Clarke bounded up the stairs to the little girl, picking her up.

Peter held onto Neal, but slid to the ground gently with him, minding his wounded back. "Neal. Neal, you with me?" Neal's breathing was hard and short.

"Petterrr…itsss…mmmm..." His face was in a permeant state of pain. His hand had come up to clutch Peter's jacket. Peter looked up and saw June.

"You okay, June?" He asked her. She nodded lightly. "Bump on the head but I'll be fine…" She noted the blood running down Peter's face from his head. "Oh Peter-" She reached toward it. "I'm fine, I'm fine." He told her, looking toward the men who now stood in the same room as them, a sickening grin on their faces. Peter pushed back Neal's curls, stroking his hair. Then it dawned on him. Where were the rest of the men? Surely they'd heard the shots? Just then, Mozzie came through the door, putting on a confused look as he looked at the men.

"You'd better take a look down there, they've all collapsed!" He told them, concerned. The gunmen looked at each other. "I'll go." One of them said and went downstairs. Mozzie looked toward Peter and Neal, a real flash of concern written on his face.

"Oh, Agent Burke, how is he?" He asked, walking over to get a better look at Neal. Peter shook his head at Mozzie. _Not okay. Definitely not okay. _Peter took an unsteady inhale.

"He's alright! He'll be just fine!" Peter said for Neal's sake, a tears clouding his vision. Neal's eyes were closed. His grip had weakened. His breathing was shallow and short. June saw Peter's look and looked toward Neal. Mozzie then turned away from the small group. "I'd better go back down there and see if he found out why that happ-"Mozzie pretended to trip right next to the man with the gun. Peter watched him as he plunged a needle into the man's neck while wrapping his arm around him and knocking the gun from his hand as if to catch himself. The man let a noise fly from his mouth, but Mozzie twisted himself around and held his hand to the man's mouth to silence him. The man's eyes rolled back shortly and he went limp.

Peter looked at Mozzie in disbelief. He smiled from his place on the floor in front of the stairs. Mozzie gently put the man to the floor, to not make a noise.

"We have to go. Now. It's our only chance." He told them urgently, moving next to Neal. "Let's get him up." Peter began to help Neal up with Mozzie as June got the door. She opened it and the three of them stepped out, June closed the door and they all ran, dragging Neal with them.

"My car is out of the question, I don't have the keys. We have to go somewhere else." Peter said. "I called for backup, where the hell are they?!" He asked urgently. Mozzie looked toward him from under Neal.

"Oh. And I've been here for how long? Please suit, tell me again who the superior alliance is." Mozzie chewed. Peter ignored him.

"Let's just go in here." Peter said, moving into an ally. They helped Neal down and Peter looked at them all. "Anyone have a phone or something?"

"They took mine." Mozzie explained, kneeling next to his friend, taking in his condition. Peter looked down the street, in the direction of his car.

"Peter you can't." June said, looking at him. "You can't go back over there." She said. Peter nodded at her briefly and took off running toward that direction again. "Don't!" It wasn't that far away really. He could make it back. Peter ran to his car and dove in, despite the glass from the broken window, and searched for his phone. He pulled it out and saw Clarke open the door. Peter began to run. But not toward where Neal and everyone else was. He couldn't lead him to them. Peter dialed the FBI's number.

_Federal Bureau of Investigation-_

"This is Agent Peter Burke, I am being chased by a man with a gun. I need backup and an ambulance NOW. Not later NOW." He commanded into the phone.

_It's just the same thing again boss, it's just static. _

"What do you mean it's static?! I'M RIGHT HERE." Peter articulated loudly into the phone, looking backward to see Clarke had gained on him.

_Track the call, that's the second time. We have to send someone down there._

Peter listened in, trying to will himself to keep running. He was exhausted. However, at least everyone else was safe. But Peter knew he had to keep going. Neal needed help as soon as possible. Peter heard the team sending backup and thanked God. He kept the phone on so they could track him, and slipped it into his pocket, running still. Finally, Peter saw the cars up ahead. They looked like normal cars. But they weren't. They were the FBI. Peter ran faster, noticing how close Clarke was to him. He didn't have a gun with him though. _Must have run out of bullets _Peter noted, his chest exploding. When the team saw who Peter was, they got out of the cars and pulled their guns on Clarke. Peter slowed to a jog, then just collapsed on the ground as agents went toward him. Diana was at his side.

"Peter, are you okay? God what happened to you?" She asked. Peter lifted a hand just slightly to give her a 'wait a minute signal' as he tried to catch his breath on his hands and knees. The blood loss was getting to him. Jones moved to help him, putting a hand onto Peter's back and shoulders.

"Neal." Peter gasped. "Help. Neal." He choked out.

"Where is he?" The group questioned. Peter took another few breathes before pushing himself unsteadily up again to his feet. Jones supported him. Peter moved toward the passenger seat of the car.

"Drive….as fast…as you can." He instructed breathlessly, and Jones did just that.

Peter flew from the car as soon as Jones pulled up to the place. He had called for an ambulance and more backup to June's house. Peter went to Neal's side and Mozzie looked at him.

"He's still breathing, but he's bad off." He told Peter.

"Neal? _Neal._" Peter tried. But to no avail. Neal's eyes opened once and looked at him, but he had no strength to say anything. "Stay with me, okay? You're gonna be alright." June had come up behind Peter and put her hands on his shoulders. She noted how pale Peter was and the cuts now plastered on his body from the glass in the car. Once the ambulance arrived shortly after, they took Neal away. They were sending another one, at Jones' request, for Peter.

Peter watched as the EMTs took Neal away and wanted to go with them. He stood, listening to all the codes the crew called out. June clutched around his arm, thinking he was going to collapse at any point now that the adrenaline would be gone. As she predicted, Peter felt it wear off. He all of a sudden felt so totally drained. He leaned toward the side that June wasn't on to hold an arm for the wall. He leaned on that hand. June looked toward him, feeling the sudden drag toward the other side, and looked at Jones and Diana, concerned. Jones moved to Peter and June unwrapped herself a bit more from his arm.

"Peter?" Jones called gently. He moved to support him a bit. Peter looked at him and Jones could still see a small amount of blood coming from his forehead. Peter's head dropped back and his eyes rolled a bit. He started to fall, but Jones caught him.

"Peter? Hey, don't go to sleep now. You made us come all the way here, you can't fall asleep now." Jones tried.

But Peter was already unconscious.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it bros!**

**I might add one more chapter just as a clincher chapter, but as for the action part, I'm pretty sure this is it.**

**Thank you guys so much, you're the best!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hellooooo!**

**Last chapter :( **

**It makes me sad.**

**Have fun anyway, hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry about the late timing!**

* * *

A funny thing about life is that you stand almost permanently on the edge of a cliff. As a young one, arms support you until you are able to stand firmly there on your own. However, as those arms fall away, it gets more and more difficult to stand there. One can only spend so long peering down the rocky slope until it disappears into a blur of grey, swirling fog, before going mad. Never does it allow the onlooker to see past its void. No matter how hard you try.

You stand there and the blur gets nearer and nearer to where you stand until one day it gets so close that you are able to see a light just behind the bleak, chilling fog. Yes, some people see the rise at a different rate than another, but it is all the same. You are the only one who can see how close the fog is and when it is your time, your spirit knows…but another's spirit views you as if you jumped or slipped off the cliff.

However, it isn't always as frightening through those sunny and rainy days. Sometimes there comes a hand to pat your shoulder, hug you from behind, someone to stand with you, or even call your name and force you to look away from the cliff. Those are what saves someone from becoming madly entranced with jumping. The more your neck is craned, the better it is. Sometimes there is someone who pushes you toward the edge again, but hopefully there is someone's hand to grasp.

For Peter Burke, it was his wife who caught a hold of him. Peter's head whipped around, his eyes flickering open against the white light of consciousness. Her voice sung to him, her touch slipped from his hand to his head. Peter blinked against the light, hearing an assortment of beeping around him.

"Peter….honey." She gently spoke to him, leaning over. Peter's eyes focused, seeing Elizabeth's beautiful face looking onto him and as much as he didn't like to see her worried, he had to admit he felt a small buzz of love when she looked at him. So concerned. So scared that Peter's feet would slip on that edge of the cliff. That she'd have to _watch_ him slip and plummet down into the grey siren.

"Hey hon…" Peter breathed, a small smile flashing into his grin. Elizabeth pulled back slightly and sat on the bed next to him. She gently took his hand, a sigh of relief escaping her. She felt her eyes well.

"How…how are you feeling?" She asked. Peter, numbed pretty well from the drugs, blinked for a moment.

"Fine…fine.." He looked at her, seeing her eyes. "Ya weren't scared….were you?" He asked, shifting a bit. He winced.

"Oh Peter." She half chuckled, half sobbed. Peter motioned with his hand for her to curl up into him. However, she knew of all the injuries he couldn't feel at that moment and she intended to be sure he didn't feel them. Elizabeth simply put her head into his upper arm, earning a few pats and rubs from Peter. She breathed him in for a minute before straightening. Peter's lazy gaze had turned into a resting, healing state again as his lids closed.

* * *

When Peter woke the next time, however, it wasn't quite as peaceful. Peter remembered something. Neal.

"Neal!" Peter shouted, his heart rate spiking up as he thought about what had transpired the night before. Elizabeth caught his shoulders as Peter tried to sit up.

"Relax honey, relax." She said, pushing him gently into the bed. Peter's head swam, the numerous cuts on his body flaring up. Peter looked up at Elizabeth.

"El….El, where is Neal?" He asked, his eyes wide on her. Elizabeth nodded.

"Peter the doctors are taking good care of him." She told her worried husband. "He's been doing alright for now. They had him in surgery for a while because he had a piece of lead still in him from the bullets, but he's doing better now hon." Peter grunted slightly.

"He's okay? He's going to be alright, isn't he?" Peter asked. Elizabeth looked at him.

"Honey they're doing all that they can." She told him, knowing Neal had been in a critical condition since they were admitted. "He's very weak right now. They had to perform the surgery but his fever was raging when they did it. He's been on the upswing, from what Mozzie told me, but they just don't know yet." She told Peter. This answer seemed to satisfy him slightly, at least it was better than not knowing. Of course, it wasn't relieving. Neal was still in danger.

"What about me? Why am I still chained up in this place?" He asked, wanting to be with Neal. See him.

"You have a concussion, blood loss, all of these cuts all over you that a few needed stitches for, and your body is just exhausted, honey." She told him, as he really hadn't gotten a good rest in days.

Later that day, Peter was signed and deemed alright to go home as long as he stayed there for the next week or two. Peter, of course, complied. On their way out, Peter insisted on seeing his partner. Elizabeth took him.

Neal was still plaster white against his sheets, trying to recuperate after the surgery. Mozzie stood when he saw Peter, smiling slightly and reaching a hand behind his neck to rub it. Peter extended his hand toward Mozzie and Mozzie met his hand.

"How are you, Mozzie?" Peter asked.

"A lot better than you or him…that's for sure." He said. "Just don't anyone I shook hands with a suit." Mozzie joked. Peter rolled his eyes a little, looking at Neal. He stepped closer to him.

"Has he been awake?" Peter asked. Mozzie nodded.

"Yeah he has…he's been asking for you." He told Peter. Peter nodded, sitting next to Neal's bed. He felt bad for the younger man, wishing he could have been there to answer Neal's calls. Peter sighed and reached out for Neal's hand. It was still warm and clammy, but not like it had been at the apartment. Neal began to rustle up, his back arching up slightly, his head turning toward one side. Peter glanced at Mozzie, hearing the younger man groan.

"He's been doing that." Mozzie said gently. "I guess it's just the fever…instills nightmares." He told Peter, leaning against the footrail of the bed. Peter looked back at Neal and Elizabeth looked, concernedly, over her husband's shoulder.

"Neal…Neal you're alright, just relax." Peter tried, inching closer. Neal's hand turned to grasp at Peter's, his eyes, foggy and confused, tried to focus on the man in front of his field of vision. Peter smiled at him, seeing him.

"Hey Neal." Peter grinned quietly, squeezing his hand. Neal smiled wearily, his eyes flicking around the room as their hands dropped apart.

"Ohhhh…look at who's here…the overgrown policeman and his beautiful wife…" He said. "…and Mozzie…." Neal spoke softly, tiredly.

"Ummm…I'd like to think of myself as my own enigma…" Mozzie told Neal, shrugging lightly. "A product of excellent knowledge and technique..."

"And a good bottle of Pinot Noir…" Neal added. Peter laughed and Mozzie shrugged.

"Like the words of Bryant McGill, "You can know something is a lie when it has no love in it"….and there is plenty of love between my wine and I." Mozzie joked back. Neal chuckled lightly as did Peter. Elizabeth turned toward Mozzie, bumping him a bit.

"How about you and I get some coffee?" She asked him. Mozzie nodded and the two filed out the door, leaving the two partners to themselves. Neal sighed, settling into the covers around him. His eyes fluttered a bit as he closed them to rest them. Peter settled back in his chair, leaning an arm on the armrest. His eyes scanned Neal, deeply concerned still.

"Stop looking at me like I'm gonna explode." Neal mumbled. Peter smiled a bit. Neal's eyes cracked open again. "Are you alright?" He asked. Peter nodded.

"Yeah…just got a little tired is all. Not exactly used to all that hallucinating CI thing." He said.

"And I'm not used to seeing them…" Neal blinked.

"Could've had me fooled." Peter chided. Neal chuckled a bit. "So how are you feeling now?"

"…tired." Neal answered. "Just…really tired."

"Yeah…figured you would be." Peter sighed, looking toward the floor for a moment. "You know, Neal…you had me really worried there." He said quietly. Neal looked at Peter, his eyes softening.

"To be honest, I don't think I remember much of it." Neal responded after a moment.

"I'm glad you don't." Peter said and began to tell Neal about some of the events that had occurred. He was halfway through when Neal gasped and grimaced due to a slight change in his position, a quiet yelp escaping his lips. Peter put his hand on Neal's arm, concern flushing his eyes as he looked toward the call button on the wall.

"Are you alright? Neal?" He asked. After a moment, Neal relaxed into his bed behind him, his expression becoming less pained. He finally closed his eyes, breathing in. Peter waited anxiously.

"Neal?" He asked again. Neal cracked his eyes again.

"Just shifted a bit, dad…I'm fine." Neal grinned a bit. Peter hardly paid attention to his joke.

"Do you want me to get someone to give you a bit more pain medication?" Peter asked. Neal declined, his eyes slowly blinking. Peter saw the weariness in his eyes and reached a hand to Neal's forehead, feeling his fever. Neal couldn't help but roll his eyes a little, grinning slightly. Peter pushed back Neal's hair before dropping his hand. "You do feel cooler, though." Peter said, satisfied.

"Hope so…" Neal said lightly, almost dreamily. He fell into a light daze as Peter's hand stroked his forehead and hairline.

"Don't worry, just rest." Peter told him, unsure if Neal had heard him. Peter pulled up the blankets on the sleeping young man. "I don't know what I would have done if…" Peter's voice tampered off, which it rarely did. A man with so much confidence had never felt so helpless as last night. He sat with Neal until Elizabeth and Mozzie came in.

* * *

"Neal, will you stop being so stubborn and take my damn arm?!" Peter asked Neal, who was now feeling much better as they were bringing him home…well…to Peter and Elizabeth's home. "Do you want to be back in that sanitized vat or do you want to go home?"

Neal sighed, taking Peter's arm. "It's like the crippled leading the crippled." Peter kept a hand behind the man and led him toward the door from the car just in case.

"You're the cripple here, I just had concussion and a few scratches." He helped Neal into the house and sat him on the couch. Elizabeth suited both of the men with O'Doul's, because she knew they weren't allowed to drink alcohol on the medication. They both thanked her and she went off to start some dinner.

"How does it feel to be out of there?" Peter asked. Neal nodded a bit.

"Good. Very, very good. Feels even better that we're here and I don't have to worry about all those stairs." He chuckled. All was quiet for a few minutes.

"Peter…I just wanted to say thank you for everything…" Neal said. "Thanks for looking out for me." Neal said. Peter smiled.

"Someone has to. Or else you'd be still getting into tons of trouble." Peter commented.

"Well I'm glad it's you…you're about the closest thing I have to a family..." Neal told him, sipping the drink. Peter's smile grew.

"Thanks Neal…that means a lot." The men looked at each other with mutual respect and recognition before turning on the television.

* * *

On some high up cliff somewhere indescribable and unreal, a man twirled a fedora through his fingers and plopped it on his head. The gray had risen to meet him more than ever. The light had begun to form. He turned his head from the edge and met eyes with Peter Burke, a hand moving from his suit pocket, extending toward Neal. The void swirled back down, creating a height even more lengthy than ever. Neal took it, smiling. Peter's smile met his.

Perhaps if you took your eyes away from the grey void, you may just be able to see the same thing...but you have to be the one to turn your own head. Always look behind you first.

* * *

**:(**

**I guess it's over...and that makes me sad!**

**I had such a great time writing this fanfic. I hope you all had the same amount of fun reading it. **

**Thank you all for being so supportive and amazing. I love you all! Thanks for also putting up with my ridiculous timing.**

**I'm so sorry, it's just because of school! I never know what my schedule is going to be like!**

**I'll see you all when a new plot bunny hops out of the bush :)**

**Until then, I wish you all the best, my friends! Remember, you are amazing and don't let anyone beat that out of you!**

**-Kristen**


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